The Girls Are Gone. For Good.

My boobs have died. Since getting pregnant in 2004, I was able to enjoy, for the first time in my life, great breasts. I filled out my bra and even had to go up a cup size. Jeff was thrilled, of course. And I have to admit that I got used to seeing larger, fuller breasts in the mirror. I was fascinated with how they could change. Some days, the right side would be hugely full of milk, definitely outsizing and outweighing the left. Some days, they would start out the same and one would grow larger than the other by the end of the day. Engorgement, while painful, makes boobs look like they have implants. I'm approaching the 2 week mark since Zach last nursed. He has weaned. Completely. Over the past 2 weeks, I've had some fullness and a few plugged ducts. Thankfully, Jeff is rather gifted in this area and was able to help release the ducts and ease the pain. And now it is finished. The fullness is gone. The plugged ducts are gone. The girls are gone. I'm back to little tiny, not much there. And now they are... deflated. Empty. Saggy. I don't mean to sound sad about it. I'm not. Just observational. And trying to imagine how I will manage the new morning routine of squishing and smooshing the flabby bits of flesh into my bra so I can at least fake like I still have some cleavage.